An East Texas Wind
I'm always struck by East Texas. Truly, you just gotta love it. It's so ridiculous at time. Actually, a lot of the time. When I lived there I thought it was hilarious (when I wasn't fearing for my life). Now that I live somewhere else, I find it even more hilarious (and I don't even worry about my life anymore). When I visit, I find myself stopped in my tracks on occasion as I'm reminded just how different East Texas. If there is anyplace else like it one earth, I've never been there. For those of you who have never been to East Texas or for those of you in East Texas who tend to blend easier than I do, here is a short list of quintessential East Texas-isms. As always in no particular order...
1. Who wears a trucker cap that says, "I [heart] Jesus"? I'll tell you. Some lady walking around the duck pond at Spring Lake Park on Friday morning. If you have to advertise.... Eh, forget it.
2. Where can you get stared down by a four year old little girl in librarian glasses and rag-a-muffin clothes? Spring Lake Park on a warm, breezy Friday morning. No, she wasn't with the I [heart] Jesus lady. By the way, it's the same place where an African-American mother will remove her child from the swing next to you after you dare make a comment about how cute the kid is and how much fun he's having.
3. For a quick minute I thought Texarkana had made some huge progress against homophobia. At a very popular hole-in-the-wall bar Friday night, I saw a big group of big, butchy dykes AND two cute, young, girlie lesbians making out at the corner of the dance floor. No one looked at them funny or made comment. At least not that I saw. Then cute, athletic, tomboyish me gets greeted by a half a dozen hot women and sits down at a table with one. I'm pretty sure that's what earned me the stare-down by the biker dude in leathers and bandana. The cute girls and ugly dykes are ok and I get the dirty look? Yeah, nothing has changed (in case you're wondering, I didn't back down from biker dude... stared his ass down right back).
4. For all it's ugliness, Texarkana is also the only place where two women from vastly different backgrounds came come together as friends. They can agree to disagree about many, many topics, but acknowledge that they are who they are because of the other. Without this woman, whom I have loved and absolutely despised over the years (she says the same about me), I wouldn't be the woman I am today. Because of her (and a few others), I learned to speak my truth and stand. It took courage for both of us to pursue a friendship. I admire her greatly. Especially for the day she took me to the oldest bar in Texarkana and saw hatred first-hand for the first time in her life.
I have to say living in Austin is easy Iand not nearly as funny) by comparison. No one cares and there is no need to stand in one's truth. I find it boring. I love the challenge. I love being pushed to be who I am. I know for a fact, if I hadn't faced close-minded hatred living among the "Hostiles" in East Texas for six and a half years, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I will say this - it wasn't all hostile. I found many, many people who accepted me and my truth. They may not have always stood with me, but they had my back. And that is a beautiful thing.
1. Who wears a trucker cap that says, "I [heart] Jesus"? I'll tell you. Some lady walking around the duck pond at Spring Lake Park on Friday morning. If you have to advertise.... Eh, forget it.
2. Where can you get stared down by a four year old little girl in librarian glasses and rag-a-muffin clothes? Spring Lake Park on a warm, breezy Friday morning. No, she wasn't with the I [heart] Jesus lady. By the way, it's the same place where an African-American mother will remove her child from the swing next to you after you dare make a comment about how cute the kid is and how much fun he's having.
3. For a quick minute I thought Texarkana had made some huge progress against homophobia. At a very popular hole-in-the-wall bar Friday night, I saw a big group of big, butchy dykes AND two cute, young, girlie lesbians making out at the corner of the dance floor. No one looked at them funny or made comment. At least not that I saw. Then cute, athletic, tomboyish me gets greeted by a half a dozen hot women and sits down at a table with one. I'm pretty sure that's what earned me the stare-down by the biker dude in leathers and bandana. The cute girls and ugly dykes are ok and I get the dirty look? Yeah, nothing has changed (in case you're wondering, I didn't back down from biker dude... stared his ass down right back).
4. For all it's ugliness, Texarkana is also the only place where two women from vastly different backgrounds came come together as friends. They can agree to disagree about many, many topics, but acknowledge that they are who they are because of the other. Without this woman, whom I have loved and absolutely despised over the years (she says the same about me), I wouldn't be the woman I am today. Because of her (and a few others), I learned to speak my truth and stand. It took courage for both of us to pursue a friendship. I admire her greatly. Especially for the day she took me to the oldest bar in Texarkana and saw hatred first-hand for the first time in her life.
I have to say living in Austin is easy Iand not nearly as funny) by comparison. No one cares and there is no need to stand in one's truth. I find it boring. I love the challenge. I love being pushed to be who I am. I know for a fact, if I hadn't faced close-minded hatred living among the "Hostiles" in East Texas for six and a half years, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I will say this - it wasn't all hostile. I found many, many people who accepted me and my truth. They may not have always stood with me, but they had my back. And that is a beautiful thing.
Comments
Post a Comment